


New Year's Eve

by elliotaldersmol



Category: Mr. Robot (TV)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, New Year's Eve, Party
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-01
Updated: 2016-01-01
Packaged: 2018-05-11 00:07:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,177
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5606122
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elliotaldersmol/pseuds/elliotaldersmol
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Elliot is dragged by Angela to a New Year's Eve party, and finds out Tyrell is also a guest. What happens when both Tyrell and Elliot get drunk and don't have anyone to watch them?</p>
            </blockquote>





	New Year's Eve

**Author's Note:**

> Hope 2016 will be good for you! I know, this is a little late but I thought it'd still be relevant. Enjoy!

Elliot stared at the text flashing on the screen of his brand new phone, and let out an annoyed grunt when his eyes landed on the four dreaded words: New Year’s Eve party. He knew Angela would drag him to that fancy penthouse on the Upper East Side, to make him socialize a bit. He wasn’t feeling like welcoming a new year by partying, since things would probably get worse for him in time. But he didn’t want to disappoint Angela, who was already complaining about feeling like their friendship was withering away. Maybe she was right. He’d been a little distant lately.

 

The tall building stood menacingly, towering over the neighborhood like a powerful tyrant. Elliot looked up, suddenly feeling small, in search of a few lights on the rooftop, but nothing could be seen from where he was standing. The skyscraper was surrounded by an unfathomable mystery, sealed from the outside. Elliot felt his resolve slowly crumble as he pushed through the golden revolving doors, and slowly made his way to the elevator. The hall was grand and lavish, his worn out soles were slipping on the polished marble floor and he could see other people’s reflections in it as they walked past him.

 

Elliot pressed the up button and waited anxiously as his gray eyes fell on a red number above the sleek steel doors. The elevator was on the 54th floor, and he wondered if he wouldn’t flee out of the building before it would come down to him. He lowered his eyes to the floor and stared at his image in the shiny marble tiles. Nervousness was showing on his face. Did he really have to go to this stupid party? Why did the new year even have to be celebrated? What good would 2016 bring for him and for others? He had a feeling that all of this, along with other holidays, were just a pure product of consumerism. It made people buy and buy even more, feeling obligated to throw a party or give gifts to their peers. Maybe he was just reading too much into it.

“Elliot, I never thought I’d run into you here!” a warm and deep voice echoed in the hallway, which made him jump. He darted his look to his side only to find Tyrell Wellick walking in his direction, holding a bouquet of white roses in his hand.

Elliot’s look flickered between the flowers and Tyrell’s face, finding the irony of it a bit distressing.

“Are you going to the party?” Tyrell asked with a frown as he came to a stop in front of the elevator doors.

Elliot slowly nodded, his eyes looking back to the red numbers. 24th floor. He could feel the weight of Tyrell’s gaze lingering on him, making him more uncomfortable than he’d admit. He shifted his feet against the cool floor and jumped again when another voice came up behind them.

“Tyrell, darling, you didn’t forget the chocolates, right?” Joanna said in her usual firm tone and Elliot watched silently as she noticed his presence and her lips instantly curved into a smile. A predatory, slightly creepy one.

“Oh! It’s… Elliot, right? How nice to see you again.” she slurred and Elliot opened his mouth to say something, but the steel doors opened and two girls walked out of the elevator.

Elliot looked at the couple for a second, and Tyrell extended his arm to invite him in first before following him.

 

It was awkward. There was a tension lingering in the air, sipping inside them and making their muscles tense. Joanna sometimes glanced at her husband, then Elliot, then back to Tyrell, before turning her head and sighing loudly. She seemed displeased. Elliot acted like he didn’t notice, but a quick look to Tyrell was all it took to notice his annoyed expression.

Elliot sighed and lowered his head. This was going to be a fun night.

 

* * *

 

The penthouse was huge and luxurious, most of the guests had already arrived and Tyrell along with his wife had blended into the crowd. Elliot dodged a few shoulders as he made his way to the patio, knowing that Angela would wait for him there. He finally spotted her long blond hair near a small fountain, she was chatting with some people he guessed were colleagues.

“Elliot!” Angela called his name in a high-pitched voice, her blue eyes widening in surprise. She wasn’t expecting him to show up, Elliot could tell. “I’m so glad you came!”

“Yeah… I’m glad too.” Elliot lied as he looked around. They had New-York displayed beneath them, as if they ruled the land. This was the party of the year, after all. The elite was here, showing off their prettiest designer dresses or most luxurious watches. Why did he agree to come here, again?

Angela shoved a drink in his hand and pushed him forward a little. “I need to find my boss, but I’ll be back soon. Have fun!” she blurted out and Elliot stared at her in disbelief, but she was already disappearing among the snobbish guests.

He turned on his feet, air lacking in his lungs. He missed his small apartment, the comforting silence only troubled by Flipper’s waggling tail on his mattress, or the sound of his fingers playing on the keyboard. He wanted to go home. Elliot lowered his eyes on his phone to check the time.

2015 would end in three hours, and he never thought he’d wish for it to come faster.

 

Elliot was at his third glass of Champagne, sat in a corner of the patio and watching the city lights moving in the night. He thought back about Tyrell, and wondered where he was. Probably inside. The man was troubling him, to say the least. In a way that he couldn’t explain, but he wasn’t sure he really wanted an explanation. It was too scary for him. The attraction was there, he could feel it, but he didn’t quite understand it. He wasn’t gay, was he? He’d never labeled himself, because he never felt the need to. Maybe now was the time. He shook his head, deciding to chase away any thoughts about the man, but as his eyes scanned the crowd, his gaze locked on Tyrell’s bright blue one.

Elliot clutched at his flute and looked away, swallowing a lump in his throat. Tyrell’s eyes had a way of flustering him, making the blood rush in his face and his heart beat harder. He didn’t like it. Did he?

Tyrell made his way to Elliot, walking gracefully in his black Armani suit like he owned the place, and sat next to him. He had two mojitos in his hands, and Elliot glanced at him when he raised one glass at him with a questioning look. Seeing that Elliot wasn’t taking it, Tyrell sighed.

“It’s only rum with mint and ice, Elliot. Not a bomb.” he said with a small chuckle on the last word, which made Elliot involuntarily smile as he took the drink in his hands.

“Your wife ditched you?” Elliot asked and sipped on his drink, watching Tyrell shrug.

“I don’t really care, to be honest.” he replied and shifted in his seat, eager to change the subject of the conversation. “Are you having fun tonight?”

“Do I look like someone who goes to parties?” Elliot scoffed as his eyes narrowed to the surrounding buildings.

They stayed in a comfortable silence for a little while, before Tyrell turned to him and his pink lips tugged into a smile. “Well, I should go see if my wife is okay. Enjoy the night, Elliot.” he said softly, his eyes flickering to Elliot’s lips for a split second. He stood up and brushed Elliot’s thigh, which sent shivers all the way down his spine.

Elliot watched him walk away and disappear, shaking his head and taking another sip of his drink. He couldn’t be attracted to such a man, representing everything he despised. Yet the feeling of Tyrell’s fingertips softly, quickly grazing at the fabric of his pants wasn’t leaving.

 

* * *

 

Angela was nowhere to be seen. The year would end in less than an hour and Elliot figured she was already drunk and dozing off somewhere in the penthouse. His head was spinning and he felt a warmth spreading all over his body, clouding his mind. He drank too much during the evening, but he didn’t care anymore. After all, if society wanted him to party, he’d party. Why the hell not. He’d regret it in the morning, but wasn’t it how he’s been starting every year for the last two decades of his life?

 

Tyrell had been dragged by Joanna and a couple of her friends on the dance floor, and with rum and vodka running in his blood, it turned out more pleasant than he’d expected it to be. Everyone was reunited on the patio, dancing to the beat of a loud electro song, lips locking and bodies moving with each other.

 

All Elliot usually saw in that were sweaty, gross limbs touching each other and people exchanging their saliva and bacterias, but he guessed tonight could be an exception. He’d probably scratch himself in the morning and cry under the shower as he’d try to wash all these people off of him, but it didn’t matter right now. _Live a little_ , Angela’s motto.

 

Joanna had ditched Tyrell once again, preferring the company of her friends, but he didn’t care. Turns out he liked being in the crowd, letting his body follow each beat and lyric of the song. He wondered where Elliot had been, and decided to walk back to the little nook in the corner of the patio. He was progressing with difficulty through the crowd, pushing through shoulders hitting him and feet stomping on his, when something collapsed against his chest. He lowered his look to meet Elliot’s slate gray eyes and both men released a surprised gasp.

“Elliot!” Tyrell shouted over the loud music and voices of the guests. “Do you care to dance?”

“I don’t know how to dance.” Elliot confessed in a slur. He didn’t know if his head was spinning because of the alcohol or because of Tyrell’s intoxicating cologne anymore.

“You don’t have to know!” he yelled back and they simply stared at each other, Tyrell guessing that Elliot wasn’t really here to dance. But he didn’t care tonight.

People were dancing, sometimes pushing them a little as the crowd moved around them, and Elliot couldn’t seem to be able to look away from Tyrell’s electric blue eyes. The music lowered and the guy weirdly dressed Elliot assumed to be the DJ raised his hands up in the air, looking at the coal black sky.

“Ten, nine!” he yelled, and the guests started clapping excitedly and counting down. “Eight, seven, six!”

Elliot’s eyes grew wide as he glanced at his phone. 11:59PM. He swallowed hard and raised his look to meet Tyrell’s gaze, and felt pulled to him by an invisible force. Maybe it was the alcohol, maybe it was the way the lights reflected on him and highlighted his features, Elliot didn’t know.

“Five, four!” the people cheered as the music on the background still flowed through the speakers.

Elliot clenched his fists, feeling his palms getting sweaty and his heart pounding hard against his chest. He didn’t want to come here, and yet he wouldn’t want to be anywhere else in the world.

Tyrell’s face lit up, his blue eyes had a sparkle that Elliot couldn’t quite recognize. Desire, excitement. Maybe it was just the alcohol. “Three, two, one.” Tyrell counted down along with the guests, except he kept his voice down, warm and almost predatory. He took one more step towards Elliot, feeling pulled by the tension that his mind had either created or was mutual.

“Happy new year!” Everyone cheered, and Elliot tried to steady his ragged breathing and look away, but it was no use.

Tyrell’s hands cupped his face, his thumbs caressing his skin, and Elliot felt like all of the air had been sucked out of his lungs. His lips crashed on Elliot’s as colorful confetti flew in the air and hovered above their heads, the cheering of the crowd making their heads spin.

Tyrell’s lips were soft against Elliot’s chapped ones, and his hands were burning at the sides of his face. Elliot pressed himself closer to him as Tyrell deepened the kiss, his tongue finding his. It felt nice. No, it felt great. Elliot felt alive, here among the people and kissing a man he initially feared.

They finally parted to gasp for air, their lips red and swollen, and Elliot stared at Tyrell, with his combed blond hair and expensive suit strewn with confetti.

“Happy new year, Elliot.” Tyrell stated as the music went back, loud and clear, before pulling him into a kiss again.

 

And for the first time in two decades, Elliot wasn’t disappointed by the start of a new year.


End file.
